Kiev for Nudniks, no. 486: On the Buses (2)

Now you can travel like a native on Kiev’s trolleybuses (see previous post) the company of hoi polloi may begin to pall, and you may set your sights on the more exclusive marshrutni bus, where the fare is a heady 2 grivnias (or maybe even 2 grivnias 50 kopecks). But before you graduate to this cynosure of public transport, it is essential for you to acquaint yourself with its very particular ethos.

The marshrutni (accent on the ‘u’), whose name derives I suppose from the French marche-route, is typically a twenty-seater minibus, with a standing capacity that seems to extend to about 200 or so. Typically the marshrutniye follow the same routes, and bear the same numbers in their windows, as the municipal bus lines, although there are some hybrid, and some original, routes, on offer as well. Unlike municipal buses, however, they can stop (in theory) at request in-between formal bus-stops.

The marshrutni driver (these buses operate without conductors) is a very particular breed. It is a point of honour for him never to address any conversation with passengers, or even to engage in eye-contact if this is avoidable. At all times he will stare resolutely forward, even when raking in the cash (an action normally undertaken whilst shooting a red traffic-light) which is deposited on the tatty piece of carpet covering the rump of the raised moulding on his right, (which separates him from the single passenger seat ahead of the bus’s front entrance).

Do not on entering the marshrutni make the callow mistake of immediately presenting the cash for your fare, or, even worse, offering the driver a large note and asking for change. This immediately marks you out as a bumpkin or foreigner. The correct procedure is to get as far back in the bus as possible and wait until it is well under way, and then, assembling the fare in as many small coins as possible, hand it, without a word, to the person in front of you, who will in turn pass it down until it lands on the mat. Don’t expect a ticket in return by the way; the marshrutni driver relies on the integrity and the community spirit of his passengers, and vice versa. Of course you must also similarly expect to effect the transit of the fares of others. This is not always so simple. The lady behind you may thrust a 10 grivnia note at you with the word ‘Tri’ (three). You communicate the note and the word to the passenger ahead of you; presently, 4 grivnia (or 2 grivnia 50, as appropriate) will make its way back to you to hand on to the lady.

The essential role in this process is played, not by the driver, but by whichever passenger, as fate would have it, is situated immediately before the tatty carpet. He or she accepts the incoming notes with the advice of how many passengers they represent and counts out as necessary the change from whatever cash on the carpet is as yet unharvested by the driver. During a rush hour journey this temporary cashier can handle a goodly proportion of the GDP of Ukraine. For this reason the beginner, particularly if deficient in mental arithmetic, is advised to avoid finding him or herself at this strategic location.

A last point to note concerns requesting the bus to stop between standard halts. The normal process here is for a passenger to shout out and for the driver to pretend not to have heard. Other passengers then join in, not necessarily those who also want to get out - feel free to add your contribution, a mere ‘hey!’ will do if you cannot manage Ukrainian. When the volume of complaint reaches a certain decibel level, the driver will relent and deposit the requester. You can also, in theory, hail the marshrutni as it passes you at any point in the street, but in such cases the driver will tend to stop only if his bus is notably empty.

Enjoy!

Kiev for Nudniks, no. 473: On the Buses (1)

The visitor to Kiev who decides not to take a gamble on taxis - minimum charge these days to a foreigner 80 grivnias, or £6 – may turn his attention to travelling by bus, where flat fares are 1½ or 2 grivnia (12p-15p).

The good news is that all Kiev buses – including trams, trolleybuses and marshrutniye – of which more anon – carry their route numbers and stops on clearly visible placards. The bad news is however that these are written in Ukrainian, so those not familiar with Cyrillic script, and having a regular travel route in mind, are recommended to take a note of the bus numbers which pass them at the start of their journey, then take a taxi just once and note the numbers passing them at their destination; with luck, one or two numbers should coincide.

Having identified your route number, you then need to understand the protocols of travel. The present notes will cover the trolleybus (the word is more or less the same in Ukrainian and English) and a subsequent effort will deal with the more adventurous marshrutni.

First: boarding the trolleybus. The concept of a queue does exist in Ukraine but largely as a theoretical construct. As the trolleybus has several entrances however, just choose the one looking most promising and barge your way in with the rest. As rush hours (chas pik) it may sometimes appear impossible to get in given the crush, but no-one is ever turned away and people continue boarding even as the doors are closing on what appears to be full capacity.

When you are inside (assuming, as is likely, that you do not have a seat) and the trolleybus is under way, try to move with the rhythm. The bus will be frequently given to sudden spurts of acceleration, followed by equally sudden violent application of brakes. Do not be over- apologetic about crunching into another passenger on such occasions; people expect it and indeed such impact can often lead to friendly little conversations.

Eventually you will become aware of a little old lady shoving her way through the passengers; this is the conductress. Please have your 1½ grivnias ready in exact change – offering a 200 grivnia note may lead to severe censure. You will receive in return a kvitok. Under no circumstances screw this up or ram it into your pocket! You must seek out a kompostor - a spring-loaded punch embedded in a block of which there are several in each carriage (above left). Assuming you can reach it, place your kvitok in the slot at the rear of the block and thump the punch so that it becomes pierced. You probably won’t be able to reach it in a full carriage but if you wave the kvitok about some kindly passenger will take it from you and carry out the kompostirovanie on your behalf. You can trust them – they will return you the punched ticket. (Note: in some cases the kompostor may be a lever-operated affair (right): these are far less satisfying to thump).

You are probably close to one of the doorways, so as each stop approaches you may be asked by anxious passengers, fearful of getting stuck on the bus, if you are getting out. No one knows why people ask, as there are no recorded cases of anyone getting left behind as far as I know. A nod for ‘yes’ or a shake of the head for ‘no’ will suffice in response. If you have nodded – descend, and congratulate yourself on having achieved your maiden trolleybus ride in Kiev.

(to be continued…..)

Ti prav, Borya!!

I never really credited the management of the Kiev Opera House for their satirical wit, but they played a blinder by staging Mussorgsky's ''Boris Godunov'' on the evening of the Ukrainian election weekend.

True, the production was unable to to feature Chaliapin (left) in the title role - but what a spot-on opening! The impoverished, starving and freezing people are beaten by knout-wielding policemen into the centre of the city to 'beg' Boris to please be their tsar. Admittedly the Orange Revolution by comparison was fully voluntary. But sure enough by the end of the opera the people are heartily sick of Victor, er, I mean Boris, and would rather have any old pretender in his place.

Historical note: after the death of Boris in 1605 , his son Fyodor was murdered after a brief reign to be succeeded by the pretender Dmitry. In less than a year, Dmitry himself was murdered and succeeded by Boris's courtier Prince Shuisky under the name of Vasily IV. Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.